


Nothing Ends

by Flesh is Yummy (fleshisyummy)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Antichrist!Sam, Community: spnspringfling, F/M, evil!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 06:38:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleshisyummy/pseuds/Flesh%20is%20Yummy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was easy -- at first.  Another demon was slicing up Dean's soul, playing a game of rinse-and-repeat Humpty Dumpty for eternity.  Ruby should have known better.  Nothing ends for the Winchester brothers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Ends

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for SPN Spring Fling 2013. Reposting it here.

Ruby tries to fuck the grief out of Sam, and, miraculously, it works.

At first it is a pain. Dean is Sam’s gangrene leg that Sam refuses to sever even though Dean’s body is putrefying, and another demon is probably slicing up his soul, playing a game of rinse-and-repeat Humpty Dumpty for eternity.

One night, Sam awakes gasping and trembling, his eyes wide. Ruby reaches out and touches his arm.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” she asks, pushing his hair out of his face. It’s an unnecessary question. It’s about Dean, of course. It’s always about Dean.

“It’s my fault,” whispers Sam, voice tremulous, and Ruby resists the urge to roll her eyes. The Winchesters and their freaking martyr complexes. “Dean, he. Because of me, he—” He cuts off then, voice choked, and, even though it’s dark, Ruby can see the tears sliding down his face. He has never been the type to keep his tears on a tightrope.

“It’s not,” Ruby says, softly, soothingly. “Dean sold his soul. That was his own choice.”

Sam flinches away from her then, and the waterworks are really coming now. “You don’t get it,” he hisses, teeth clenched. “It’s because I died. If I hadn’t, then none of this would have happened.”

Ruby touches his wet face and kisses him on the lips. Sam kisses back and runs his fingers through her hair, touches the small of her back. Sam likes this meatsuit better because it’s softer and smaller, and Ruby likes that it works for him.

But Sam pulls back, and he still looks anguished. “God, he’s in Hell,” he says. “He’s in Hell, and—”

Ruby presses a finger to his lips. “You underestimate Dean,” she whispers. “He’s strong.”

That shuts him up, and soon he’s pawing at her with those big hands, pushing her against the bed, and fucking her. If she were human, he would leave lasting bruises.

As Sam gasps, his hands tightening on her hips, Ruby revels in her lie. Dean Winchester is not strong. He is not made of steel; he is made of shrapnel. He is precarious pieces of scrap that will have a great fall.

There is no doubt in her mind that he will break the first seal.

~*~

Even when Sam becomes king, the common denominator is still Dean.

Even in Hell and trapped in solitary confinement, Sam’s older brother makes him pusillanimous and indecisive. It’s the apocalypse, and Sam pops pills to calm his nerves and gorges himself with demon blood and then throws it back up. The others—the greedy sons of bitches that they are—blame Ruby. She may have freed Lucifer, but she has provided a kaput antichrist.

By now, Ruby knows better than attempting to sever ties. Instead, she has another plan. She asks Sam what he wants to do with Dean – plain and simple.

Sam pulls away from the demon he is feeding from. His lips shine with blood. The demon looks at Ruby expectantly, her black eyes inquisitive. “I – I need time to think,” Sam says, the blood dripping as he talks. “I don’t—I can’t. Just keep an eye on him for now, okay?”

“Of course,” Ruby says, kissing him on the cheek, and then she orders to have his brother shackled to a wall.

Another demon might have chosen the ceiling for symbolic purposes, but Ruby doesn’t consider herself all that sadistic or theatric. She has a job to do.

Dean glowers at her when she enters the room, shakes at the chains, does the whole gratuitous hunter spiel. She crosses the room and reaches out. Dean braces himself, expecting her to slap or punch him.

Instead, she places her hand on his cheek. Dean’s eyes widen, mouth open in question, and Ruby kisses him.

When Ruby pulls back, Dean doesn’t look surprised, just wary, his eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?” he demands.

“I’m Sam’s queen,” Ruby says. “What belongs to him belongs to me.”

“Sam doesn’t own me, you skank,” Dean says, but he sounds tentative. Ruby knows he’s not a lionheart. He just imitates one.

“He owns everything,” Ruby says, and she presses her lips to the hollow of his throat this time. “He is Lucifer’s chosen vessel, and he will share his kingdom with him.”

Dean says nothing, but his breath hitches as she mouths his jawline. “Nothing ends, Dean,” she whispers. “No matter what, Sam will always have demon blood inside him, and there is nothing you can do to change that.” She pulls back and watches his Adam’s apple bob. “It’s too late for your brother.”

“No,” Dean says, desperate. “No, it isn’t.”

“His eyes are as black as mine.”

“You poisoned him.”

“He asked for it. He wanted me to poison him.” Ruby kisses Dean again, and, surprisingly, he kisses back. For a moment, she thinks that she is victorious, that he has finally succumbed, but then he pulls his head back and slams his face into hers.

Ruby yelps, but it’s clear that Dean hurt himself more than he hurt her. He winces, his forehead crinkling. If he weren’t shackled, he would probably be rubbing it with a hand.

“Still got that spunk,” Ruby says, turning around. “Tell me when you’ve decided to stop acting like a child.”

She walks out of the room, but she knows she hasn’t lost. Dean is hanging by threads. It won’t take much to wear him down.

~*~

As it turns out, it only takes a few days for him to break.

Ruby tells Dean about Sam, how his little brother needs him. She presses her lips to sweaty patches on his skin and explains how his resistance is pointless. He says nothing, eyes closed, until one day:

“Unlock me.”

“What?” She pulls back, and that’s when she sees it: complete and utter resignation. Dean’s eyes are open, and they are big and green and doleful.

“Bring me to Sam.” He tries to sounds commanding, but his voice wavers.

Ruby nods and unchains him, and he has to catch himself from face planting on the floor. His skin is scrawled with Ruby and Sam’s handiwork: dwindling bruises from where Sam punched him and bright red hickeys that Ruby left recently. The bruise from when he headbutted Ruby still hasn’t faded. His skin is wan, and there are dark circles around his eyes.

Ruby laces her fingers through Dean’s, and, surprisingly, Dean doesn’t pull away. His hand is clammy, and Ruby leads him past other rooms and demons that snarl and jeer. Dean looks straight ahead. He is used to this, after all.

When Sam sees Dean, his eyes widen, and there is no denying the hope that emanates from him. Dean lets go of Ruby’s hand to drop to his knees, to kneel before his brother.

“Dean?” Sam whispers, daring to have faith, and he walks over to his brother. Dean’s shoulders tremble as Sam places his big hands on Dean’s face, the same hands that hurt him and split demons open wide and held blood and pressed Ruby onto beds after waking from nightmares crying out for his brother.

Ruby ruffles Dean’s hair and smiles wide, feeling a genuine wave of affection for him. Like him, she is finally unshackled, unfettered, and unchained but not in the same way that he is. Nothing ends for the Winchester brothers, and that is perfect.


End file.
